Crafty Little Beasts
by Narev
Summary: The best laid schemes of mice and men, Go often awry, And leave us nothing but grief and pain... Dr. Finklestein, a young doctor in Halloween Town loses more than his precious creations one night when he attempts to create the very best little trick-or-treaters.


Dr. Finklestein walked through the dark, abandoned streets of Halloween Town, careful to stay in the shadows when he heard the tell-tale whispering hiss of vampire cloaks over cobblestone streets.

Above him a sliver of a pumpkin-orange moon smirked down at the not-so-quiet town as parties raged through the night. It was a few days before Halloween and everyone was excited… The Pumpkin King had promised the most frightening night ever.

But the good doctor, a quiet young man with dark, watchful eyes, could not bring himself to join in the festivities. When he had lived on Earth he had been a quiet, nervous man and it seemed that even after death he could not quite bring himself to become as wild as some of the other inhabitants of the creepy little city.

Dr. Finklestein sighed softly; it was not his way to laugh, drink and leap out of the shadows to frighten his friends… his taste in terror ran a little deeper, a little darker.

Dr. Finklestein liked the slow, creeping dread as an innocent bystander looked on a cold, metal operating table and saw pools of fresh blood and smears as whatever had been being work had managed to free itself from its confines and was now lurking in the dark laboratory.

Dr. Finklestein liked to frighten with needles, saws, vials and re-animated corpses.

But that did not mean he didn't like to join in the festivities of Halloween Town… he just had to do it in a rather round-about way.

"Igor?" the young doctor hissed into the shadows, "Are you coming?"

"Yes, master," the hunchback slurred back, shuffling forward slowly and staring up at the doctor with his one good eye.

"Don't fall behind again, Igor," the doctor rebuked and, without waiting for a reply, hurried through the shadows to the Halloween Town Cemetery with Igor following obediently behind, a shovel balanced on his shoulder.

Dr. Finklestein pushed the cemetery gate open, flinching when the hinges squealed in rusted protest.

"Hurry, Igor," the doctor hissed.

"I'm sorry, master," the hunchback said, shuffling past the doctor. Once his assistant was in, Dr. Finklestein closed the gate and led the way down the steeply sloped hill and into the crowd of graves.

Dr. Finklestein followed by his loyal assistant walked through ankle deep mist that curled and wove about their legs. The good doctor did not pause or hesitate before any of the graves but instead made his way towards a small hill where a large grave, decorated with a leering gargoyle had been set.

That was where the doors would open and lead into the human world where Dr. Finklestein would be able to get his fresh parts for his most ambitious project ever.

"Why tonight, master?" Igor puffed, shuffling along after the doctor.

"Because the bodies need to be relatively fresh for what I want to do," The doctor answered tersely. "Save you breath."

The two walked quietly between rows of gravestones until they made their way to the monument atop the hill.

"Open the doors, Igor," Dr. Finklestein commanded. The hunchback hurried forward and carefully pried the two heavy, stone doors away from the dark tunnel that led out of Halloween Town.

Dr. Finklestein felt a thrill of excitement go through him; it had taken a great deal of research to find this portal; the only one who knew were the kings of Halloween Town… that would the Boogie Man and the Pumpkin King. Dr. Finklestein had no wish to converse with the former king of Halloween Town and wished to surprise Jack with this latest project so the only thing the doctor could do was read until he found what he wanted.

And now, looking into the yawning tunnel before him he knew had found what he wanted.

"Come, Igor," he muttered and hurried down the darkness blindly. The hunchback puffed and shuffled after him.

It felt as though they walked for miles and miles in the darkness, barely able to see an inch in front of their noses and making no attempt at conversation. Then, with barely a whisper of magic, Dr. Finklestein felt a change in the air. It grew stale and dusty, the smell of quiet fear and death.

The doctor hurried his pace, practically running and Igor behind him, gasping and wheezing as he attempted to keep up, the noise of the hunchback's breathing was deafening as it echoed off the close, stone corridor but Dr. Finklestein, intent on his mission, did not notice.

Finally he came to another door and, after ordering Igor to open them, emerged into a dark, deserted cemetery. The doctor looked around with dark, wary eyes and nodded once then began to search for freshly turned earth that would indicate a new grave.

He found three, side by side and all small. Dr. Finklestein smiled to himself, how perfect was his plan? How elegantly flawless was his scheme? The doctor though that nothing could describe the utter beauty of his designs. For what was a Halloween Town without Trick-or-Treaters?

"Dig these three up, Igor," Dr. Finklestein hissed impatiently, a feverish, fanatical gleam in his small, dark eyes, "I wish to get started as soon as I can."

"Yes, master," his assistant wheezed and began digging.

The earth was soft and, being so recently dug, easy to remove; soon there were three, small coffins lying next to their now-empty graves.

Using the shovel, Igor pried the lids of the coffin opened and looked down curiously at the three too-still bodies lying in their satin and taffeta beds.

"No time to gawk, Igor," Dr. Finklestein said briskly, after all he had never been skittish with dead bodies, that might have been why so many thought him strange when he was alive on earth.

"Sorry, master," the hunchback replied, "I've just never seen a fresh corpse before."

"The term is 'cadaver', Igor," Dr. Finklestein said a trifle stiffly, "Now please, pick them up and follow me."

Igor sighed softly and tenderly gathered the three dead children up into the arms and, balancing the shovel along with his wares, hurried after the young, brisk doctor.

Again Dr. Finklestein descended into the dark tunnel with Igor huffing and puffing after him but when they returned to the Halloween World, both of them took a deep breath, washing the stale smell of the human world away.

When they finally re-emerged into the Halloween Town Cemetery, Dr. Finklestein looked around carefully, wary of being found out by the Pumpkin King or one of the other citizens of Halloween Town. When the cemetery still looked deserted, Dr. Finklestein hurried Igor along, back through the musty path and back into the dark town.

By the sound of the houses along the way, the parties were all at full tilt. Satisfied that no had missed the doctor or his assistant, Dr. Finklestein hurried back to his laboratory and ordered Igor to lie the three dead children on the metal operating table.

"What now, master?" the hunchback wheezed.

"Now I want you to go and enjoy yourself at one of the parties," Dr. Finklestein said calmly. "And I don't want you to breathe a word of this to anyone… not even Jack. In fact, if you could simply forget about everything we've done tonight I'll give you a biscuit."

Igor looked a little scandalized by his master's request; after all, the hunchback had always been part of the mad-scientist's team… Igor often believed that he had more loyalty to Dr. Finklestein than he did to the Pumpkin King.

"But… master, I always help you with your experiments!" Igor said in a small, hurt voice.

"Not this time, my friend, this time I want it to be a surprise to everyone!" the doctor was filled with a kind of crazed joy.

"Are you sure, master?" Igor asked uncertainly.

"I'm always sure, Igor," Dr. Finklestein said and tossed a treat to his assistant who, moving out of reflex rather that thought, caught the crunchy biscuit in his mouth and gulping it down with much slobbering and drooling.

"Forget about tonight, Igor," Dr. Finklestein said softly, a little bit of a threat creeping into his voice, "and have fun."

"Y-yes, master," the hunchback stuttered and then hurriedly shuffled out of the laboratory to spend enjoy himself with the Clown and the Behemoth.

With his assistant gone, Dr. Finklestein hurried around preparing for the surgeries ahead of him. He washed his tools and his hands, sterilized his work area and readied himself for this, his ambitious, elegant, _beautiful_ project.

Dr. Finklestein had thought, after living a while in Halloween Town, that something was missing… there were vampires, ghouls, zombies, skeletons and other such frights but… there was still something missing. He had puzzled over it for weeks until one day, while helping prepared for the Halloween Celebration it had occurred to him.

This town, his beloved Halloween Town, needed trick-or-treaters!

"What is Halloween without trick-or-treaters?" Dr. Finklestein muttered to himself as he prepared to make the first incision on the dead child.

It had occurred to him a while later that no living, normal child would be able to handle the constant fright and fear so Dr. Finklestein had hatched a daring plan; dead children would not be afraid of constant Halloween, would they?

Then, as the seed of the plan grew into a lovely tree of thought, Dr. Finklestein decided that no simple children would do… they would be the cleverest little children, the most cunning… the most skilled at tricks.

That was why Dr. Finklestein was opening their skulls carefully, to alter the soft, grey-pink goo between their ears and make them that much cleverer, that much trickier.

The night grew long and deep as her worked. Without Igor there to wipe the cold, chilly perspiration from his brow, the doctor, with a crazed, manic gleam in his easy, armed it away.

He was caught up in the _beauty_, the utter _perfection_ of his plan. Oh, how the others would crow with delight at these three new little additions. And the fear they would bring with them, the terror of parents whose worst fears were to lose their own children… and of course the horror of other little trick-or-treaters; a lurking fear that, under the costumes and masks, maybe something loathsome was lurking.

What could be better?

All of the parties had long since died before Dr. Finklestein reattached the tops of the children's heads with careful staples.

As he stood over his three creations he smiled to himself, wondering how the rest of the town would react to the world's finest trick-or-treaters.

It only took a single bolt of flaring, crackling electricity to make their little hearts beat again.

Dr. Finklestein stood over his three creations, shifting from one foot to the other, jittery with all the anxiety of a first-time parent. He waited impatiently for them to open their eyes and blink away the milky cataracts that death brought with it. They turned their heads, looking at each other and then, as one they looked up with dark and hollow gazes at the doctor and grinned wickedly.

"Happy Halloween, children," Dr. Finklestein greeted cheerfully.

"Happy Halloween!" the three children cackled together.

Carefully the young doctor un-strapped the children and handed them each a costume; he had tried to be simple with their costumes; a devil, a witch and a skeleton and they seemed pleased as they pulled their clothes on and picked up their masks.

"As the newest and youngest residents of Halloween Town and the worlds finest trick-or-treaters you three need names," Dr. Finklestein said. He considered a moment, looking for one child to the next, trying to think up properly frightening names.

"Lock!" the devil said, stepping forward and bowing, the tail of his costume flickered back and forth as if it were real.

"Shock!" the witch said, stepping forward and shoving the devil aside as she also bowed, sweeping off her tall out and baring long, yellow teeth in a feral smile.

"Barrel!" the youngest boy said, spinning around and bowing as well, though he tipped forward a little and fell forward on his face. The other two children cackled wickedly.

"Pleased to meet you," Dr. Finklestein replied, also bowing, "I am your creator, Dr. Finklestein."

"That's a stupid name," Shock sneered.

"You're a pretty stupid guy," Lock agreed.

"You couldn't be our creator," Barrel concluded and shoved the doctor hard.

Dr. Finklestein stumbled back but managed to catch hold of a wall before he went sprawling.

"Now, see here!" Dr. Finklestein started sternly.

"See where?" Lock asked, miming squinting around with his hand above his eyes as if shielding his gaze from the sun.

"Over here?" Shock asked, knocking over a table full of delicate lab equipment. As vials and syringes smashed onto the ground she ran away cackling.

"Or over here?" Barrel demanded, tipping a massive tank with a body inside it. It also smashed against the metal ground and sent fluid spilling over the floor and filling the room with the stench of formaldehyde.

"What is wrong with you?" Dr. Finklestein shrieked, backing away from the children as they smashed through the delicate jars and bottles that lined the room, covering the floor with shattered glass. The children ran over it as if they couldn't feel it, though it crunched beneath their bare feet and they left bloody prints on the metal floors as they ran wild

"You… you must _behave_!" the doctor cried.

"Why'd we do something stupid like that?" Shock cried, leaping from a tall shelf to grab hold of the metal light fixture. She howled wildly as the lamp went swinging around and leapt away with a laugh when it gave under her weight and went crashing to the ground.

Terrified and wondering what had gone wrong with his beautiful, elegant little scheme, Dr. Finklestein watched his three creactions cavort and spin, smashing his lab. He raved after them, catching what he could and dodging what could be saved.

"Watch me!" Barrel shouted. In his hands he held half a dozen scalpels and with deadly aim, began to fling them at Dr. Finklestein.

The dark eyed man who had been so quiet and so somber in life let out a terrified little squeal and ducked away. Metal chimed against metal right behind him and the children positively screamed with laughter.

"Lookit him _dance_!" one of them shouted.

"Ten points if you hit him!"

"Twenty if you kill him!"

_Oh, sweet holidays what have I done?_ Dr. Finklestein thought deliriously. He slid beneath his desk and tried to catch his breath. He needed to get out of here… he needed to get to Igor. Igor could help, Igor always helped.

He looked towards the long, winding stairs that lined the inside of his tower and readied himself for a run. His heart was beating fast and hard against his sternum and his throat felt dry and slick.

He bolted like a rabbit before his fear became too much for him and cried out as vials of corrosive liquid rained down on him, burning his skin and lab coat with equal ferocity.

He was almost to the stairs when the witch-dressed child landed in front of him, her eyes gleaming like those of a wild dog and her mouth split into a hungry, demented smile.

Laughter, low and wicked and _evil_ sounded behind him. Dr. Finklestein spun the witch grabbed him, shaving him away from her. He felt his feet almost go out from under him and snatched at the railing. The stairs spiraled down into darkness beneath his heels, the shadows there seeming hungry and mocking.

"Where are you going, old man?" Lock demanded, a smile curling his lips up.

"We didn't say you could go anywhere!" Shock growled, stepping forward.

"I made a mistake… I need to go get Jack," Dr. Finklestein panted.

"And what would Jack do?" Barrel asked, coming forward on bloody feet.

"He would take care of the mess I've made," the doctor whispered.

"You mean he'd kill us?" Lock screamed.

"Not today, doc!" Shock hissed.

Lock and Shock both took another step forward and Dr. Finklestein took a step back. He felt his calf connect with something soft and cool. As he tilted backwards, towards the stairs he looked down and caught sight of a round, pale face grinning fiendishly up at him.

Barrel had snuck around the doctor and had crouched down, effectively tripping Dr. Finklestein and throwing him down the long, spiraling stairs.

The first blow landed just below the doctors neck and he scream out in pain. Down and down he tumbled, feeling his bones snap, bruises form and wondering if he would die at the foot of the stairs that led up to his laboratory.

Before he could dwell on that thought too much longer, Dr. Finklestein smashed his head on one of the stairs and in a flare of agony, knew no more.

When he woke again, sunlight was streaming through the windows and over his crumpled body at the bottom of the stairs. Three sets of bloody foot prints led down the stairs and out the door and Dr. Finklestein was looking into the wide, terrified eye of Igor.

"Master? Master!" Igor wailed, "Master, what happened?"

"Igor," Dr. Finklestein croaked, "I'm not dead…"

"It's very hard to die when you're already dead, Master," Igor slurred, looking even more frightened than before.

Dr. Finklestein nodded and regretted it instantly; hot, blinding pain shot up and down his spine. He moaned and nearly passed out again but managed to cling to consciousness.

As he lay on the floor he slowly took stock of his own state; ribs cracked, ribs broken, concussion and his eyes wouldn't focus right. His wrist was dangling unpleasantly at the end of his arm and he thought he had fractured his cheekbones…

It was a long minute before he realized he couldn't move his legs. It took him even longer to realize he could feel nothing below his waist.

Terror rose up in his throat like vomit but he breathed out slowly, controlling his impulse to scream and weep. It wouldn't do… it wouldn't do at all…

Especially not with those horrible children set loose on Halloween Town.

"What have I done?" Dr. Finklestein whispered, talking more to himself than his concerned assistant, "Oh, what have I done?"

"Master, tell me that I can do for you," Igor said, reaching out and taking his master's gloved hand between his own. When the doctor squeezed gently, seeking comfort as well as giving it, the hunchback could have wept.

Slowly Dr. Finklestein opened his dark eyes and stared up at his assistant, horror and sorrow equal in his pale, pained face.

"Get the Pumpkin King, Igor… I've made a terrible mistake."


End file.
